


Baby Mine

by tiptoethrough



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Gen, Parabatai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 14:14:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10698711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoethrough/pseuds/tiptoethrough
Summary: If Jace ever found the warlock who cursed Alec, he’d kill her. He’d torture her first, and then he’d kill her. Then again, if he did that there’d be no one left on earth who could bring the true Alec back to him. Blood curses could only be lifted by the warlock who’d cast them.





	Baby Mine

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic could go one of two ways: a remix of season 1 with the epic intent of Bringing Back Alec, or basically a series of hardly-connected drabbles featuring baby!Alec. Not sure which it's gonna be yet lol.

                The water ran red around Jace’s feet, blood sluicing off his skin. He pressed a hand against the shower wall, leaning forward so the hot spray pounded against his neck, easing the tension there. He remained long after the last of the demon ichor had washed away, willing his muscles to relax so that he might sleep easy.

                After, dried and wearing just his sweats, Jace eased open the door that connected the bathroom to Alec’s bedroom before he padded back to his own room. His feet met something hard halfway across the floor, and it went flying across the room making a gleeful jingling noise. Jace fought the impulse to swear, freezing in place with baited breath. After a moment’s silence he continued quietly tiptoeing to bed, but he’d only just made to climb in before a tiny voice drifted in through the bathroom.

                “Jace? _Jace_?”

                Jace sighed, and squeezed his eyes closed, overwhelmed by how _difficult_ it was, in that moment, to resist the impulse to cry out of frustration. He was so tired, and he was on duty again tomorrow night: he and Lindsay were supposed to find out why mundies were being found dead around the city, their bodies drained of blood.

                For a moment he considered taking the internet’s advice: CIO therapy. Cry it out. But he hadn’t the heart, when he heard his name called again, to ignore it.

                He trudged through their shared bathroom and into Alec’s bedroom, crossing over to the crib. Alec was standing with his fists around the slats, wide brown eyes tracking Jace’s movements. He lifted his arms up to Jace, imploring to be picked up.

                “No, Alec,” Jace said, trying to keep his tone soothing, “It’s bedtime, _parabatai_. I love you. Good night.”

                Alec hesitated before laying back down, still watching Jace with those big eyes. Jace adjusted Alec’s blanket around his shoulders, and leaned down to kiss his forehead. But as he turned away Alec let out a cry of unhappiness, and Jace looked back to the crib to find him standing again, arms outstretched. With a groan Jace lifted Alec from his crib and brought him back to his own room, curling around him in bed with his knees up so he wouldn’t roll over on him.

                Alec didn’t need to be told to go to sleep this way. He wiggled into Jace’s side and closed his eyes, drifting off easily. Jace laid awake, watching him sleep. He ached with the weight of unsatisfied fatigue, and fought down the bitterness that welled up within him. Alec could hardly be blamed for sleeping better with Jace, he told himself, as he told himself most nights. The _parabatai_ bond was never meant for babies, and it couldn’t be explained to him why he felt tense or upset when Jace wasn’t around, or why being close to Jace made everything seem lighter, as he drew strength from him through the bond to power the runes decorating his tiny body. If Jace ever found the warlock who cursed Alec, he’d kill her. He’d torture her first, and then he’d kill her. Then again, if he did that there’d be no one left on earth who could bring the true Alec back to him. Blood curses could only be lifted by the warlock who’d cast them.

                Jace buried his nose in Alec’s hair, breathing in the smell of his baby shampoo. He wanted the old Alec back, the one who fought by his side and berated him for doing things the unconventional way. Every time the thought crossed his mind he was consumed by guilt; Alec was a sweet baby, usually calm and easy to deal with. But he depended on Jace more than any Shadowhunter in history had depended on their _parabatai_ : Jace fed him, bathed him, comforted him when he was scared and lonely, and he did it all between shifts on duty. He and Izzy alternated shifts so that she could put him to bed at night when Jace wasn’t available, but during the day Alec shrieked incessantly if anyone but Jace tried to tend to him. It had left Jace tired and angry, at the warlock who’d cursed Alec, yes, but sometimes at Alec, too.

                _It’s not his fault_ , Jace told himself again as he closed his eyes and waited for sleep. _It’s not his fault._


End file.
